Spoilers: Yes. Some. They're all stale ones though.

I don't own the concept of EFC, or any of the characters. Which is too bad, really. TPTB should be charged with a cruelty suit. Anybody you don't recognize from the show isn't mine, you're just not looking hard enough.

So, WFA...

WHAT FATE WOULD ALLOW
by Karen Justiard
(justiard@hotmail.com)

Da’an gazed out the window of his embassy. The view was the same as it had always been; in the years he had been on Earth, the city had never changed, at least not significantly. There were new structures, perhaps, new technologies, but nothing that fundamentally altered the people of the planet. The humans streamed past the embassy in just as much of a hurry as they had always been, no matter how much transport or labour-saving technology was introduced to their world. They adapted, but they never changed.

And if the vibrant colours of their world had faded of late into virtual non-existence, and if even the most obvious landmarks were obscured by distance, and if his personal panorama of the capitol no longer promised that the beautiful blue orb of a planet might one day become a true home for him and the rest of his species, he could not fault the humans. There was no question of where the blame lay.

"Da’an."

Da’an raised a hand into a graceful arc, and the window became opaque, blending into the living wall. The beings on the other side would not be affected by losing their watcher any more than they had ever been affected by his gaze.

"The doctors, they don’t think she’s going to make it."

Da’an closed his eyes for a moment before turning to face his protector. Liam stood just inside the boundary of the audience chamber, stance rigid, waiting. He would accept no pretension over this matter, no speech about the greater good.

"It was not my intention."

Not an apology, but Da’an didn’t feel that he deserved to make one. Although he did regret the consequences, his action would be the same. Some things were beyond choice or conscience. Beyond anything but weakness.

"No, of course not, Da’an. You have nothing but good intentions." The flat tone turned the compliment into a curse. Da’an remembered being fascinated with the way humans managed to impart so much information with a simple waver of voice, but now such considerations seemed inane and tiring. The Taelons were a doomed species, and because of them, so were the humans. It did not matter if he could understand the subtle nuances of their spoken language.

Liam remained still for a minute and then left the chamber, not waiting for a dismissal.

Da’an turned back to the wall, but couldn’t summon the energy to unshutter the virtual glass. Liam would soon be outside the embassy, rushing to his own destination amidst the crowds of equally determined humans. He had left the hospital for the sole purpose of affirming Da’an’s guilt, and now that that was done, the Taelon had no doubt he was returning to the side of his dying friend.

Most of the regret Da’an felt over this newest betrayal was for the sake of his Protector. Other than some vague desire of making up for his species, for his, misdeeds against the humans to at least one of their number, Da’an had no real reason to think of Renee Palmer. But the Doors Operative was probably the last friend, real or otherwise, the young hybrid had left.

"Interesting view?"

Da’an lowered his head slightly as he recognized the voice of the new arrival.

"I ran into Major Kincaid on my way here," Sandoval remarked. "He seemed upset about something."

Da’an slowly came to face the implant, a human-shaped shadow standing where Liam had been a half minute ago. "You did not inform me of your target."

"Ms. Palmer was merely an innocent bystander, although the woman was hardly innocent." Sandoval said. "A tragedy."

"What do you want, Agent Sandoval?"

Sandoval came a few steps closer until Da’an could see that he was concealing something in a fist. "The information you gave me was... very useful."

Da’an closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. "As per our arrangement."

"Yes." Sandoval came even closer. "I just wanted to thank you."

Da’an found he could not keep his gaze from the implant’s left fist, extended an extra few inches before his torso. Renee Palmer and five of her associates were dead or dying because of him, but that fact seemed unimportant compared to the unspoken suggestion that Sandoval was holding kryss.

Da’an felt his body tremor in anticipation to the drug, and Sandoval’s face twisted into something like a grin. There were just as many nuances in human facial features as there were in human vocal patterns, and at one point, Da’an had been determined to learn them all.

Sandoval took another step closer, so that he could have touched Da’an if he wanted to, or the Taelon might have reached and touched him. Slowly, the implant lifted his fist up to almost chest level and turned it over, and then unfurled his fingers to show the content of his hand.

Nothing.

Da’an spun again to the embassy wall as the slight internal tremors became a series of pronounced shudders.

"Actually," Sandoval said, "Zo’or wants to see you on the mothership." When the Taelon didn’t move, he continued, "Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten our ‘arrangement.’"

After Da’an felt more under control he cautiously turned back to Sandoval. The implant had taken a step backward. His left fist still rested just below chest level, and, in a parody of a Taelon salute, his right hand was forward and open to display a tiny glowing vial.

Da’an snatched it, ignoring Sandoval’s satisfied stare. Some things went beyond even weakness.

*
*

The shuttle was ready when they reached it. Sandoval stood at a respectful distance as Da’an climbed in, either for the pilot’s benefit or to satisfy the implant’s need for irony. After they both were seated, Sandoval nodded once at the pilot, a human Volunteer, and the shuttle lifted. Da’an noticed the embassy garden for a moment as the vessel swung in a half circle. The plants were still meticulously kept, but he had not visited them in weeks.

The shuttle jumped slightly as the pilot brought the interdimensional drive online. Soft images of clouds and vegetation were replaced by a brilliant tunnel. Sandoval glanced at Da’an, but the Taelon ignored him.

Da’an wondered why Zo’or had called him to the mothership. There was no meeting scheduled, but his child had been acting increasingly irrational in past months. It was possible the summon was a sudden whim. He probed into the psychic link of their species for an answer, but, as was becoming usual, Zo’or had blocked all but his presence from the Commonality. He worked on strengthening the connection, using the biological bond between them as a catalyst, but even so, he could not sense more than a faint irritation and impatience to Zo’or’s signature, and then an admonition for the intrusion. The shuttle began to shake, and Da’an pulled away, letting the mental voices of other Taelons fade to the back of his mind.

"Is there a problem?" Sandoval said.

"I don’t know, Sir," said the Volunteer pilot, gesturing frantically in an attempt to keep them stable.

Da’an saw that the interdimensional space had become erratic outside the shuttle. The normal rippling of background fluctuations had intensified into a dangerous turmoil. The tunnel appeared to overlap and fold in on itself, at times almost touching the virtual glass of the hull.

"I think there’s something wrong with the ID drive. Attempting to disengage..." The pilot went through another series of motions, but the view didn’t change. Sandoval started to undo the harness keeping him in his chair.

"Uh, no, Sir... I think you better stay strapped in, Sir," said the pilot in a uneven voice. "I’m going to try..."

The shuttle shook and buckled. A flash of bright light surrounded them for a moment, and Da’an imagined he saw the Taelon mothership. Then there was another flash, and when it subsided the shuttle was back in the Earth’s atmosphere over the embassy. The pilot managed to pull the small ship upright and set it into a series of tight spirals to use up most of the shuttle’s momentum. Even so, there was enough force in the landing to throw Da’an hard against the harness a last time.

For a minute all three simply sat in relief. Then Sandoval undid the straps around him, but didn’t get up. Da’an noticed that all of the implant’s muscles seemed to be spasming uncontrollably. The observation brought him some degree of absurd satisfaction.

Sandoval reached to the floor and collected his global, which had fallen from his jacket at some time during the flight. He got to his feet unsteadily and left the shuttle.

Da’an undid his own harness and stood. He glanced at the pilot, who had not moved since landing the shuttle.

"You have shown remarkable ability," Da’an said.

The human startled at his words, and then looked at the Taelon over the pilot’s chair. "Sir?"

"You did very well, Volunteer."

"Oh, uh, Malasp. Lieutenant Rachael Malasp," said the human, misunderstanding his praise as a request for a name.

Da’an nodded and followed after Sandoval. The implant seemed mostly recovered. He was standing by one of the shuttlebay walls studying something on his global. When he saw Da’an, he shut the screen and approached the Taelon. "It appears that Zo’or will have to wait," Sandoval said.

Da’an looked at the implant. It was unlikely that the interdimensional drive of the shuttle would fail, but Sandoval would not have arranged such sabotage if it would endanger his own life.

"I will inform him of why we were delayed," Sandoval continued, "and you--,"

"I will be in the chamber," Da’an said. The first effects of the kryss were wearing off, and he felt no patience for either Sandoval or Zo‘or. He glanced back at the shuttle, where the Volunteer was still sitting. "Discover the reason of the malfunction," he added, and then left the shuttlebay.

Da’an doubted that Sandoval would tell him what was found, but that was not a new concern. Most likely, Zo’or was behind the sabotage of the shuttle. It would not be the first time Zo’or had tried to have him killed, and Da’an knew there was little trust between the Synod leader and Sandoval. There was a human expression that fit the situation, Da’an remembered. Something about stones and avian creatures...

"Da’an."

Da’an paused in the hallway as he recognized the voice. He had been certain Liam had gone to the human hospital to be with his friend, but not enough time had elapsed to account for his journey. Da’an closed his eyes when he realized the implication. Renee Palmer had died while Liam was at the embassy.

Da’an didn’t have patience for Liam either, but he knew the confrontation would be inevitable. He turned to the hybrid walking up the hallway.

"Da’an, are you ready?" Liam asked as he caught up to the Taelon.

Da’an tilted his head slightly, unsure of Liam’s meaning.

Liam stood silently for a few seconds, and then glanced up and down the hall. "Are you waiting for something?"

Da’an looked away from his Protector. Liam obviously wanted him to speak first, but Da’an didn’t know what to tell him. Death was different for humans than Taelons, and Liam had seen much death in his young life. "I have no words," Da’an finally said. It was as much truth as he could offer.

Liam gave Da’an a strange look. "Okay," he said. "Are we going?"

"To what destination?" Da’an asked when Liam was no more forthcoming.

"The Washington Children’s Institution, or whatever they call the orphanage."

Da’an tilted his head again. "Why would we be going to an orphanage?"

Liam sighed, and then tightened the muscles in his cheeks. "Because they’re expecting us."

"I was aware of no such arrangement."

"Aware of no such... Da’an, you’ve only been looking forward to this for the last two weeks!" Liam frowned at the Taelon. "Da’an, are you okay?"

"I am fine," Da’an said. In truth, he was perplexed by the hybrid’s behaviour, and the kryss he had absorbed earlier was beginning to be broken down by his energy pathways, distracting him.

Liam nodded, although he didn’t look like he believed it. "Well, I already prepared a shuttle, so-,"

"You prepared the shuttle," Da’an repeated, studying his protector closely. Liam had never before shown any need for revenge, no matter the provocation, but perhaps the newest loss had affected him even more than Da’an had guessed.

"Yeah," said Liam. "So, if you’re ready...,"

"I am not going," Da’an said, with more force than was usual.

Liam stopped talking for a moment and blinked at him. "You’re not?" He frowned again. "But we have an appointment."

"Then cancel it," Da’an said. The ache of the dissolving kryss increased, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, Liam was staring back at him with an expression of confusion and what Da’an was sure was honest concern.

"Are you sure you’re alright?" Liam asked. "You look kinda... well...,"

"I am fine," Da’an said again.

Liam still didn’t look convinced, but he backed away. "I’ll cancel with the orphanage," he said. "Do you want to reschedule?"

Da’an moved a hand in a noncommittal gesture, and started again towards his audience chamber. After ten steps he looked back to be sure Liam wasn’t pursuing him.

Liam was taking his global out of a pocket. "You want to be alone," he said when he noticed the Taelon’s gaze. "I understand."

"Thank you, Major." Da’an continued down the hallway. He was confused by his protector’s strange, almost friendly, behaviour. If Renee Palmer was dead, Liam had already made it clear what his reaction would be.

He slowed slightly as a new wave of pain coursed through his body, to be followed by a feeling of euphoria which left him light-headed when it passed. It must be the kryss, he decided. He had taken too much earlier, almost the whole vial. It was already killing him, now it was finally affecting his mind.

Da’an changed direction, turning down a corridor that led to his personal quarters. The audience chamber was more public, and Liam was right; he wished to be alone.

Two Volunteers walked by, not glancing at the Taelon as they passed. A third figure stared out a window at the end of the hall. Da’an suspected for a moment that Sandoval had somehow foreseen his new path, but dismissed the possibility as he neared. The figure was too slight to be the implant.

Outside the window, the Earth’s sun was obscured by a cloud, softening the silhouette of the human, and a vague sense of familiarity increased in urgency until it was almost a warning. Da’an paused, metres away, uncertain he wanted to continue. The steady pounding of Volunteer footsteps echoed from a hallway behind him, and a shuttle passed by the window before vanishing. And then the human turned and looked up at him in confusion, and Da’an felt nothing but a certainty that some aspect of the universe was very, very wrong.